


Five Times John Saw Rodney Naked

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt Rodney, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining John, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13682235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: This fic does exactly what it says on the tin.





	Five Times John Saw Rodney Naked

v.   
  
“Oh no.  No way.”     
  
Rodney's feet planted to the ground in solid refusal.  It wasn't entirely unexpected - John had been warned about McKay’s churlish nature when he had first picked him for his gate team - but John had thought that if it was going to happen it would have happened two days ago when he had frogmarched McKay to the  firing range, or yesterday when he had frogmarched McKay from the labs to his quarters with orders to get eight hours of sleep before their first mission.  Maybe even on the mission itself, when they were forced to hike half a mile up a hill steep enough that even John was feeling short of breath by the end of it.  But it hadn't happened.  There had been no complaints.  None.  Not until now.   
  
Of all the things that John expected Rodney to baulk at, showering in a communal changing room wasn't one of them.   
  
“There was no discussion about communal showers when you were wooing me on to your gate team, Major.”   
  
“Wooing?”  Ford repeated, sniggering.    
  
John ignored him and sat heavily on the waiting bench, already pulling his boots off.  Shaking them out he marvelled at how small the stone that fell out was.  The damn thing had been digging into his foot for the past three hours, feeling more like a knife by the time they arrived back on Atlantis.   
  
“You can't make me.”  Rodney still hadn't moved, unless you counted crossing his arms and lifting his chin defiantly, which John didn't.  “I have a perfectly good shower back in my quarters and I refuse to participate in whatever sort of alpha male bonding you military types get up to in here.”   
  
“Well, mostly we get clean,” John drawled.     
  
“Yes, a likely story.  Well, I'm not falling for it, not again, and if you have a problem with that - - well, you'd be an idiot to take me off the team because I'm clearly the most brilliant scientist here and - -“   
  
John figured if he didn't interrupt him now, McKay would keep rambling until their next mission which was scheduled for the day after tomorrow.  “McKay, relax.  No one’s kicking you off the team.  You don't want to shower here, don't shower here.  I don't care.”   
  
“You don't?” McKay looked mystified - as if he couldn't believe that where he showered wasn't at the top of John's list of concerns.     
  
“I really, _really_ don't.”   
  
“Huh.” With that one word, McKay turned around and walked out of the changing room - hopefully to his own shower because after a long hike they were all more than a bit ripe.  John shook his head, exchanging an amused glance with Ford.   
  
“What do you think that was all about?” Ford asked, already half naked.    
  
John shrugged, pulling off his own t-shirt.  He’d read enough of McKay’s file to hazard a guess but it wasn't his place to share.  Something about Ford’s amusement was setting off his alarm bells though, his grin just a hair too wide for John's liking, so he let a little of his guess slip out.  “I'm guessing if I had started high school at age 11, I would have bad memories of locker rooms too.”   
  
Ford’s amused grin fell flat as he took in John's words.  His face was tinged with a little bit of guilt, enough that John knew he'd been right in his suspicions.  Ford would have been the sort of kid that would have made someone like McKay’s life hell in high school.  The little bit of guilt at least showed that he had grown up enough to realise that it was wrong.  “That’s messed up, sir,” Ford said.  “It was good of you to let him off with it.”   
  
John grinned, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood.  “Hell, I just didn't want to see McKay naked.”   
  
They exchanged a laugh at that, Ford’s a little louder and truer than John's.  He should have known that those words would come back to bite him in the ass.   
  


* * *

  
As the weeks went on, John spent more time in the labs than he did in his office.  They had the best coffee and the best entertainment.  Watching McKay verbally eviscerate someone had fast become one of John's favourite pastimes on Atlantis.  John hadn't even realised there were so many different ways to call someone an idiot until he met McKay.  He'd feel bad about it if McKay were needlessly cruel or mean about it but from what John had witnessed, he never was.  Sure, he was cutting; but John had been there for more than a few of the mistakes that had been made and not once had he heard McKay say anything to someone who didn't deserve it.   
  
The scientists who worked under McKay wore their verbal scars like badges of honour and John knew that it was because they were learning more under McKay than they ever had before. Well, most of them were.   
  
The first time John saw Rodney naked had started like any other day.  They'd arrived back into Atlantis late the night before, stepping through to the midnight black of The city from the scorching midday sun of PX5-789.  Gate lag, John was starting to realise, was a million times worse than any jet lag back on Earth.  John, Ford and Teyla had headed for the showers just off the gate room while McKay headed to his own quarters as usual.  A morning briefing with Elizabeth was scheduled far too early for John's liking, his body clock too out of kilter to get much sleep after arriving back on Atlantis, but he knew if he slept the day away, he'd only feel worse.   
  
So, instead of crawling back into his bed after their briefing, he'd followed McKay to the labs, taking his laptop with him in case anyone asked why he wasn't working on his own reports.  McKay bitched and moaned constantly about John's constant presence in his labs but even though he'd only known McKay for a few weeks, he knew to look at McKay’s actions rather than listen to his words and it didn't escape his notice that there was always a workstation free for him or that there was a coffee mug (proclaiming that mathematicians did it all night long) that no one else but him ever used next to the coffee machine.   
  
John had been half browsing the latest report on ammo stock and half listening to McKay ream out some Dutch chemist whose name John couldn't remember.  McKay had called her no fewer than five different names during their conversation - everything from Kroes to Koervers- so that wasn't much help.  Whoever she was, the chemist obviously hadn't got the memo that the minions were supposed to accept their eviscerations without comment.   
  
John looked up at the sound of a raised voice that wasn't McKay’s Canadian baritone just in time to see the chemist’s flailing arms knock the vial of whatever the hell they were discussing off of the table.  The vial wasn’t stoppered which had been the reason for the argument in the first place and John watched in horror as the liquid splattered all over McKay’s uniform.  The light material of McKay’s khaki coloured pants and blue t-shirt was darkened where the liquid had landed and John rose half out his seat as little wisps of smoke started to rise off the fabric.   
  
The Dutch chemist backed up against the wall, her hands covering her mouth, a litany of apologies sounding from her.  John ignored her, pushing past her to get to Rodney.   
  
Rodney was already kicking off his boots and working at the belt on his trousers, his hands shaking minutely as he tried to work the clasp.   John reached out to help him - he knew it was vital that Rodney get rid of the contaminated clothing immediately - but Rodney backed up a step, dodging out of John's reach.   
  
“No,” he snapped at John.  “You risk contaminating yourself and it's a small safety shower.”  Rodney pushed his trousers down and stepped out of them, baring his surprisingly muscular legs to the lab.  John could see a damp spot on the fabric of his boxers where the liquid had soaked through and realised that Rodney was about to get very naked in the middle of the science labs.

The Ancient equivalent to safety showers were tucked discreetly in the corner of almost every room on this floor, part of the reason that the floor had been assigned to the science department.  What they didn’t have was any kind of privacy curtain or anything really to block the sight of whatever poor schmuck had to use them.  The Ancients either didn’t have any hang-ups about that sort of thing or, more likely, didn’t care enough to think of anyone’s privacy.   
  
John turned to look at the few scientists who were deemed worthy of sharing McKay’s workspace today, each of them looking as horrified as John felt; each of them staring at Rodney who was still in his contaminated boxers but moving to pull his t-shirt off.  John could see the already irritated red skin of Rodney's belly where the hem was lifted up.  “Ok, everybody out,” John yelled, putting as much command in his voice as he could manage.   
  
Zelenka was the first one to move, taking up John's call for everyone to leave and herding them all to the door.  They moved quickly, barely glancing back and soon the lab was empty but for John and Rodney.   
  
“I'll call Carson, have him be ready to take a look at you,” John said, staring at the wall in an attempt to preserve Rodney's dignity.  “I'll, uh, he’ll bring a robe for you to use after the, ah, I'm gonna go now and let you - -“ John broke off his awkward attempt to talk and went to follow the rest of the lab outside.     
  
“Thank you,” Rodney's voice was quiet, almost choked.  John was so spooked by it - Rodney should never sound that small - that he turned to look at him.  Rodney stood next to the safety shower, his contaminated underwear in a pool on the floor.  His back was facing John, protecting his own dignity as much as he could as he stepped under the shower head.  With a pull of the cord, a deluge of high pressured water engulfed him, hopefully washing off any contaminants that had made it through his clothes to his skin.     
  
John swallowed at the sudden crashing of feelings that threatened to overwhelm him and quietly moved through the door, letting it slide closed behind him.   
  
Carson’s team crashed into the corridor, someone else having obviously called them.  John let Zelenka and the others catch him up with what happened as he let the wall prop him up.   
  
When the hell had McKay become Rodney to him?  And how in the hell did McKay manage to have an ass that fine when he complained about having to walk anywhere further than a few hundred metres?

John hit his head against the wall in an attempt to knock some sense into himself.  

Too late.  It had already happened.  John was attracted to Rodney McKay.

Fuck.

* * *

iv.   
  
John had hidden that part of himself - the ‘attracted to guys’ part - for so long that the waves of attraction he felt towards Rodney were threatening to knock him over.  He'd always been an equal opportunities sort of guy when it came to love or sex or whatever but had made a choice to focus on just one sex, the opposite sex, so that he could fly.   
  
It was a choice that he hadn't regretted, not once, until now.  That one tantalising glimpse he'd gotten of Rodney's ass had unlocked a torrent of feelings and regrets that John struggled to keep hidden.  More than a decade’s worth of practice helped though.  That, and the fact that Rodney liked blonde hair and big boobs - two things John would never have - made it possible for John to keep going on as if nothing had changed.   
  
It's not like there weren’t other things to keep his mind occupied.  Between massive storms, killer nanites, losing Ford and making contact with Earth again, there were plenty of other things besides Rodney’s ass to think about.   
  
It never really went away though; the _want_.  Sometimes, at night mostly, his mind would wander in the direction of that day and John was only human, of _course_ he wanted to know what the view from the front would look like.     
  
Not like this though.  Never like this.   
  
John’s own P-90 was pointed at the back of his head as the villagers of MG4-5Y9 forced him to his knees and tied him to a post.  Beside him, Ronon and Teyla were getting the same treatment while four men disappeared behind a tent flap, pulling Rodney with them.     
  
John struggled against his bonds but only succeeded in pulling the rope that had been used to bind him further into his skin.  He felt the telltale slippery wetness of blood where the rope wound around his wrists and he just knew that it was going to hurt later on but he'd take all the hurt in the world if it meant keeping Rodney from whatever the hell these people had planned.   
  
“Rodney.”   
  
Teyla's gasp caused John to look up from his attempts to free himself.  Craning his neck to look at her he registered the dismay on her face and felt his heart drop into his stomach.  Following her line of sight, he drew in a harsh breath and rocked forward, shoulders straining as he tried to pull the post he was attached to from the ground.   
  
“Keep your damn hands off him,” he yelled.  Their captors ignored him as easily as they ignored Ronon’s shouted promises of exactly what he was going to do them when he was free.  They tightened their grip on Rodney and started to pull him towards the waiting slab of rock that formed a pseudo altar.

Rodney fought them every step of the way, straining against them, the effort showing in the corded muscles of his back and arms.  It didn't matter.  Rodney was no match for them and John winced as one of their captors punched Rodney in the stomach, causing him to double over, gasping for breath.   
  
Using his momentary weakness, they easily marched Rodney up the last few steps to the waiting platform and lifted him on to it, quickly securing him, face up to the table with the built-in shackles until Rodney was splayed out on the platform in four-point restraints.     
  
Naked.   
  
John closed his eyes tight against the sight as he struggled to keep his anger in check.  This wasn't how he had wanted to find out that Rodney was uncut or that the flush that John usually saw on Rodney's face and neck extended part of the way down Rodney's chest until it reached his nipples.   
  
Ronon yelled beside him, wordless and full of outrage, causing John's eyes to fly open again.  The leader of their group of captors stood next to Rodney on the platform, a wickedly sharp looking knife in his hands.  The point of the knife trailed its way up Rodney's left leg, leaving a small line of blood in its wake.     
  
Rodney let out a shout of fear as the knife ghosted over the delicate skin of his inner thighs, skimming and just missing the soft cock that lay flaccid against his leg.  The man chuckled softly at Rodney's panic but didn't dally there, moving the knife ever upward, across Rodney's belly, circling his nipples before it stopped, resting at the hollow of Rodney's throat.   
  
They were going to cut Rodney's  throat and let him bleed out in the name of their Gods and John would have to watch it happen.   
  
No.   
  
No way.   
  
John renewed his attempts to slip free with a determination that made him lose focus on anything else.  He couldn't watch what was happening on that damn altar, not if he didn't want to lose his mind, so he blocked it out and concentrated on the ropes around his wrist and the post at his back.  He was so lost in the attempt that the sound of bullets firing didn't register at first and it wasn't until he felt hands grabbing at his wrist and helping him free that he realised the cavalry had arrived.   
  
Oblivious to Lorne’s questions and the dead villagers surrounding them, John staggered towards the platform, almost falling to his knees in relief when he saw Rodney alive and relatively unharmed.  Ronon was already there, stripping off his vest and draping it over Rodney's groin area.     
  
Teyla was right behind him, running up to the platform and bending close to Rodney, touching her forehead to his, her hands on his cheek.  John realised that Rodney was still bound to the stone by the shackles on his wrists and ankles and he felt a pain in his jaw as his muscles clenched tightly.   
  
Seeing the village leader on the ground, his unseeing eyes staring at the sky, John started to rummage through the man's robes, looking for something to unlock Rodney's bonds.  Ronon joined him, leaving Teyla to calm Rodney, talking low and gently to him.  John wanted to be the one offering comfort but it was too dangerous, too - - he couldn't let his attraction show, not now.  Not with Caldwell gunning for his job and the IOA just waiting for him to mess up and - - he found the keys to the shackles and tossed them to Ronon wordlessly.     
  
“Make sure he's ok?” he said quietly.  “I - -“   
  
“It's a stupid rule,” Ronon said, knowing what John couldn't say.    
  
“Yeah, well,”  John stripped off his jacket and passed it to Ronon who took it wordlessly.  “Give him this.  He doesn't even like to shower with other people around, this is - - I have to talk to Lorne.”   
  
Ronon nodded his understanding and stood up, walking towards Rodney.  John heard him mutter under his breath as he went.   
  
“Damn stupid.”   
  
John couldn't agree more.

* * *

iii.   
  
Another day, another planet.  Another group of villagers that wanted to get Rodney naked.   
  
“What do you mean, no?”   
  
John glared at Rodney, his hands unconsciously tightening on his P-90.  “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? I mean, no.  No way.  Or have you forgotten what happened the last time you were forcibly stripped off world?”   
  
“The key word there, Colonel, being _forcibly_.”  Rodney's voice was cold, harsh like it sometimes got when he was reminded of something he'd most like to forget.  “This isn't the same thing at all.”   
  
“No?”  John scoffed.   
  
“No,” Rodney repeated.  “There's no scary altar stained with blood or sharp knives wielded by crazy religious fanatics.  What there _is_ , is the possibility of a ZPM.”   
  
John had to shut his eyes at the memories that Rodney's words brought back.  That day on MG4-5Y9 still featured in some of his worst nightmares.  Nightmares where the cavalry had arrived even a minute later than they had and John had been forced to watch Rodney bleed out on that altar.  Just the thought of it was enough to make John shake with anger.  He'd been so angry after that mission; taking it out on everyone from Ronon and Teyla to Carson to Rodney himself.  Of course, the real person he was angry with was himself.  Both for letting it happen and for staying away from Rodney afterwards.   
  
“I believe Rodney is correct.”  Teyla offered, drawing John's attention away from bad memories.  “The people here have many spiritual beliefs but none of those beliefs seem to be violent in any way.”   
  
“They want him to get naked,” John hissed.  “You can't possibly be ok with that.”   
  
“Oh, what?” Rodney interrupted.  “Like it's so inconceivable that anyone would want to get in my pants?”   
  
“That's not what I - look, there will be no getting into anyone's pants on this mission, ok?  Forgive me if I'm a little bit concerned that the nice people we only just met are insisting that you leave your clothes and weapons behind before you go traipsing about an Ancient cave system.”   
  
Rodney looked somewhat mollified but his eyes were still bright with ZPM shaped possibilities. “An Ancient cave system with power readings through the roof,” he corrected.  “There's a difference.”   
  
John rolled his eyes.  “Of course there is.” He looked over at Ronon who seemed unimpressed by all the standing around and not shooting.  “You got anything to say, big guy?”   
  
Ronon shrugged, twirling his gun in the air.  “On Sateda some people believed that being one with nature made you closer to God.  If this cave is a holy place to them, makes sense to me.”   
  
“See,” Rodney jumped on Ronon’s tacit approval, “weird naked religion is totally par for the course here. No offence, Conan.  Come on, Sheppard."  Rodney's big blue eyes were hard to resist.  "ZPM,” he pleaded.   
  
John could see the writing on the wall but he wasn't letting go without at least one concession.  “Fine, but you don't go alone.”

* * *

After a few tense words with the villagers and Teyla diplomatically intervening, John was allowed to accompany Rodney into the cave to check out the power source.   
  
Naked.   
  
Maybe it was the two previous bouts of public nudity that Rodney had under his belt but he wasted no time in pushing his trousers down when they were brought to the entrance of the cave.  John quickly averted his eyes from the way Rodney's ass looked bent over and found a spot just to the left of the cave entrance to look at.   
  
“Today, Colonel,” Rodney snapped.  “Do you have any idea what we could do with a second, fully charged ZPM?”   
  
John snorted.  Of course.  What was a little public nudity when it came to ZPMs?     
  
Sighing heavily, he started to pull at his belt and tried very hard to ignore Ronon sniggering behind him.   
  
Once they were both fully ‘pure’, their guide motioned that they may now enter the cave.  With only a flashlight and Rodney’s modified life signs detector, they made their way into the cave.   
  
Rodney had been bent over his LSD since they'd arrived in the vicinity of the cave, only dropping it long enough to drop trousers, and that didn't change when they got into the cave.  Barely pausing to notice where John was illuminating the way with the flashlight, he barged ahead, following the signal to its source.  John tried to concentrate on lighting the path ahead but every so often Rodney would step in front of the light and John would be greeted by a close-up and well-illuminated view of Rodney's perfect ass.  It wasn't the first time he'd seen it but it was the first time he'd seen it in circumstances that didn't involve potential calamity, whether from chemical burns or human sacrifice - and wasn't that a test of just how weird his life had become over the last three years.     
  
It really was a perfect ass.  Full and round and John just bet that it would taste -  -   
  
Rodney stopped abruptly and John almost ran into him, only just stopping himself in time.  The direction his mind had been wandering in had succeeded in making his cock start to stir and John tried to will it down before Rodney noticed.     
  
Not that Rodney had even taken his eyes off the power signal since they started.  Hell, he probably hadn't even noticed that John was naked.   
  
“Why did we stop?” John asked, proud that his voice sounded steady and not at all like he was fighting a semi.     
  
“Because it's not a ZPM,” Rodney snapped.  He gestured at the walls around them which were covered in a slimy green sort of moss that had John taking a step back.  “It's an ore.  In the rock.  Which, seeing as this cave is religiously significant to the people here and Elizabeth is weird when it comes to that sort of thing, is useless to us.”   
  
He sounded so defeated that John reached out and squeezed his shoulder.  It was a move that John had made a few times before but never like this, skin on skin.  It was strange how different the gesture felt without a thin layer of fabric there to act as a barrier.  Rodney's skin was cool to the touch and softer than John would have imagined.  Rodney leaned into the touch for just a second before he shifted away, bent over his LSD once again.   
  
Done with their mission, Rodney let John lead the way back towards daylight, his flashlight pointing ahead of them both now.  It was safer that way.  Even if Rodney almost tripped up six times on the way back.   
  
After they exited, while they were pulling on their clothes, John tried not to feel like a creep.  He knew that the view of Rodney's ass he got today - never mind the feel of Rodney's shoulder under his hand - would be replayed in his mind that night.     
  
And Rodney hadn't even so much as glanced at him.   
  
John shook his head, angry at himself.  It was time, past time, that he let this whole stupid crush thing go.  It was crazy that it had even lasted this long.  John should just find someone else to focus his attention on and forget about Rodney.  Rodney was straight.  Rodney didn't feel the same, he never would. 

* * *

ii.   
  
“John?  John?  Where’s John?  JOHN!”

Rodney’s voice carried down the corridor from the infirmary, the first thing that John heard when he stepped out from the transporter.  Cursing quietly, he jogged the rest of the way.  He should never have let Keller force him out of the infirmary in the first place, no matter how much he had needed a break.

Rodney didn’t get a break from this so why the hell should he?

Reaching the infirmary, John wasted no time in pushing his way through to Rodney’s bed, following Rodney’s increasingly agitated cries of ‘John.’  Keller looked relieved to see him which was more than enough to tell him that Rodney must have been having a particularly bad morning.  It sure made a change from the night before when she had practically had him carried out of the place.  John ignored her completely, pushing past her to get to Rodney.

“I’m here, buddy,” he said soothingly.  “What’s all the fuss about, huh?”

“You - you went away,” Rodney half-stuttered, half-sobbed, grabbing at John’s shirt.  “Thought you wou- wouldn’t come back.”  

John swallowed thickly and let Rodney pull him closer, laying his own hands gently on Rodney’s head.  “I promised I’d be back, didn’t I?” he asked softly. 

Rodney nodded, his head tickling against John’s stomach, his panic subsiding into calm. 

John moved his hands gently through Rodney’s surprisingly soft hair in a gentle, soothing motion that Rodney seemed to like.  Looking up, he saw Keller looking at the two of them with a frown on her face.  John was past caring what she thought, he was long past caring about anything she had to say.  If their plan held out, Jeannie would be here tomorrow and then Keller’s reign of control over Rodney’s medical care would be gone.  

“Why didn’t you call me before it got this bad?” he asked.  He was careful not to pitch his voice too sharp in deference to Rodney’s emotional state but the glare he levelled her with made no mistake as to how angry he was with her.

“I can handle him fine,” she said between gritted teeth.  “I _am_ his doctor.”

“ _Carson_ was his doctor,” John corrected her.  “You’re the CMO who won’t call him in on this.”

Keller’s lips pressed into a thin white line.  It was an argument that they’d been having since Rodney’s first brain scan.  She ignored the barb like she always did.  “He was fine.  All morning he was fine,” she said stubbornly.

“Until he wasn’t,” John snapped.  “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing.  He needs to get clean, Colonel. I was just trying to help him get clean.”

John frowned. He turned his gaze down to Rodney who was absently fiddling with a button on John’s black shirt.  Rodney’s own top was stretched out at the neck like someone had been pulling it and he knew immediately what had happened.

“He doesn’t even use the gate room showers and you wanted to strip him off here in the middle of the infirmary and give him a sponge bath?”

“There’s a privacy curtain.”

John pointedly looked at the open curtain, Rodney’s bed open to the rest of the infirmary.

“He needs to be washed, Colonel. And he can’t do it himself.  I would have closed the curtain.”  

Keller wasn’t budging on this, John could tell.  He also knew that she was making sense even if she had gone about it in the worst possible way.

“I’ll do it,” he said.  “But not here.  Let me take him back to his quarters where he feels safe and help him there.”

Keller’s eyes widened in surprise at John’s offer and John had to remind himself that she barely knew him or Rodney.  Carson would have known that there was nothing John wouldn’t do to help.

“You don’t know what to do,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

He looked at her with pity, already urging Rodney to stand up.  “I’m 41 years old, Doc. I think I know how to take a shower.”

* * *

Once he had Rodney alone in his bathroom, John wasn’t so confident. He’d managed to get them both there safe and sound but now that they had arrived he had no idea how he was going to make Rodney feel comfortable with this.

Gently, he guided Rodney to sit down on the closed toilet seat before he busied himself with adjusting the temperature and water pressure of the shower to the optimum settings.  When it was as perfect as John could make it, he turned back to see Rodney watching him.

Crouching down so they were at eye level, John took a deep breath.  

“So,” he began, “it, uh, well you’re starting to reek a bit, buddy.” He tried to inject some humour into his voice and spectacularly failed.  “What do you say we get you squeaky and clean for Jeannie coming tomorrow, huh?”

“Jeannie’s my sister,” Rodney said.  

John would be more impressed with that statement if Rodney didn’t sound so unsure.  He forced a smile on his face.  “Yeah, she is.  So, how about it?”

Rodney looked from the pounding water of the shower to John and nodded.

Relieved at that small victory, John smiled more naturally.  “Ok, great.  First, we have to, ah - “ John gestured at Rodney’s clothes and Rodney looked down at them, frowning slightly before he seemed to realise what was required and started to pull off his t-shirt.

Once he was naked from the waist up, Rodney started to fiddle with the drawstring cord of his pyjama bottoms.

John rested on his heels and watched as Rodney’s usually quicksilver fast fingers ineffectually tugged at the knot and he felt another piece of his heart break.  It was a feeling he’d been experiencing a lot lately.

Rodney stifled a sob of frustration and John moved forward, immediately helping.  

“It’s ok,” he soothed.  “I’ve got it, let me help.”

Rodney’s head fell forward until it was pressed against John’s shoulder, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides while John made easy work of the knot.  They stayed there for a moment, just like that.  The weight of Rodney’s forehead on his shoulder might have been the only thing that was keeping John from falling apart.  He moved his head, brushing his lips ever so softly against the top of Rodney’s head and urged him up before Rodney did permanent damage to his back.

Permanent.

Wasn’t that a joke?

He helped Rodney push the bottoms down off his hips where they puddled on to the floor.  Rodney stood, stark naked, in front of John, hiding nothing, not a shred of embarrassment or humiliation on his face and - - pushing the unfairness of it all out of his mind, John smiled, rubbing his hands up and down Rodney’s arms where they were chilled.  “Let’s get you clean, huh?”

John stripped his own clothes off as he manoeuvred Rodney under the spray and stepped in beside him.  Starting with Rodney’s hair, he gently tipped Rodney’s head back under the water before lathering up some shampoo in his hands.  Rodney was silent and pliable through it all, moving where John told him to move and lifting his limbs when John asked him.  

John felt the need to fill that silence, talking about what he was doing as he was doing it and scrupulously checking the ingredients in the shampoo and body wash for citrus, never mind that they were in Rodney’s own bathroom using Rodney’s own products.

Rodney’s cock lay half-hard against his leg, curving ever so gently to the left as John efficiently ran the washcloth between Rodney’s legs.  John’s own cock remained soft, how could it not?  He knew Rodney’s own reaction was purely sensory.  He couldn’t imagine a situation less sexually charged than this.  That’s not what this was.  

This wasn’t lust.  This wasn’t a crush, it wasn’t just - - how could John ever have thought that this was just an attraction?

John’s startled laugh was loud against the pounding of the water, reverberating off the ceramic tile. Funny, how the acoustics of the room made it sound more like a sob than anything else.

Rodney’s hands traced the single tear track on John’s face and John shut his eyes tight, letting Rodney pull him close, letting Rodney wrap his arms around him.  John buried his head in the crook of Rodney’s neck and let the pain out, breathing harshly, the water from the shower pounding down on them both and mixing with John’s silent tears on the floor.

Of all the times to realise he loved Rodney, it had to be now, when he was just about to lose him.  

After a few minutes, John’s harsh breathing quietened and he stood straight again, Rodney watching him closely.

“You’re sad,” Rodney said quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, I am.”  John’s voice sounded raw to his own ears and he winced, clearing his throat.  “But, hey, look at you.  You’re all clean.  Isn’t that better?”

Rodney gazed down at himself and nodded.  “See Jeannie now?” he asked.

“Soon,” John promised.  “Real soon.”

John didn’t really believe in the Shrine’s powers but he wanted to.  He wanted nothing more than one last day with Rodney.  His Rodney, not this shell that he’d become.  He’d do whatever it took to get Jeannie to give him that chance. 

“Are you - are you going away again?”  Rodney asked.

John was shaking his head before Rodney even finished asking.  “No, not again.  Never again, ok?  I’m here.  Until the end.”

God, he hoped the Shrine was real.

* * *

 

i.

Rodney remained in the infirmary for two weeks after Keller’s impromptu burr hole surgery on Talus.  John visited him three times, each visit carefully planned to coincide with someone needing his immediate attention within five minutes of him entering the infirmary.  The way Rodney’s face had closed off in painful understanding the third time it happened was enough for John to stop visiting altogether.

He’d never claimed to be the brave one and that’s what he told Ronon when Ronon tried to beat some sense into him.  

“You came this close to losing him, Sheppard.” Ronon held his thumb and forefinger close together - too close.  “There’s people who would kill for a second chance with the one they love.  I’d kill for - -” Ronon had breathed out heavily through his nose, his face shuttered with anger that John had never had directed at himself before.  “Maybe you’re not who I thought you were.”

John had let him walk away, had laid there on the mat, breathing through the pain in his ribs until Lorne and six marines walked in for sparring practice an hour later.

“You OK, Colonel?” Lorne asked, hovering above John like he was unsure whether he should get help or not.

John had waved him off and stood up, staggering back to his quarters.  He was beyond help.  Had been since the moment a snarky Canadian physicist in a hideous orange fleece asked him to imagine where they were in the solar system.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that the same snarky Canadian physicist was waiting in his quarters for him, perched uncomfortably on the end of John's bed.

“You said you would be there until the end.”

John paused in the doorway to his quarters, torn between fight and flight.  Rodney made the choice for him, closing the door behind him, forcing John to move into the room or be clipped by the door.

Sighing, he collapsed onto a waiting chair and started to pull his sneakers off.

“You remember everything?” he asked.

Rodney shook his head, huffing in frustration.  “No, not even close.  But I remember you.  I always remembered you.  I remember you sitting with me.  Every day.  I remember drinking on the pier with you and you refusing to say goodbye.  I remember you - “ Rodney’s eyes darted in the direction of the bathroom and his face flushed red.  John knew from MG4-5Y9 just how far down that flush went.  “I remember you promising not to leave.”

“I never left.”

“No?” Rodney’s voice rose, anger tainting it.  “I guess that must have been someone else that barely came to visit me while I recovered from having a hole drilled in my head.”

John eyed the gauze-covered wound on Rodney’s temple and winced at the reminder.  

“It still hurts like hell,” Rodney said, seeing the direction of John’s glance. When John didn’t say anything, just kept sitting there, Rodney sighed.  “Look, I’m just going to say this and if I’ve read this wrong then we’ll chalk it up to lingering brain trauma, ok?  OK.”  Rodney stood abruptly, paused, and then sat down again, hard.  

“I never forgot you,” he said again.  “I couldn’t even recite pi anymore but I never - - do you know how big a deal that is?  And you - you never left.  I mean, I know you left sometimes because of the whole having to eat and sleep thing but you never left, not really.  And, see, I think that’s a pretty big deal too.”  He looked at John then, blue eyes wide and scared.  “It means something, right?”

No, John wasn’t the brave one.  That had always been Rodney. He made it look easy.  Maybe it was.

“Yeah,” John answered, bracing himself.  “It means something.”

John couldn’t remember who made the first move after that.  All he knew was that there were lips and hands and skin being revealed as layers of clothes were peeled away.   John touched every inch of skin he could reach, with his hands and his tongue, finally learning just how smooth Rodney’s skin felt, just how salty it tasted. 

Once they were fully naked, Rodney broke off panting.  He looked at John, his eyes raking over every inch, causing John to squirm uncomfortably.

“What is it?” John asked, his own breathing sounding harsh.  

“This is the first time I’ve seen you naked,” Rodney said, teasing his lips over John’s collarbone.  “I want to remember it.”

“You saw me naked when I helped you shower,” John said, writhing under Rodney’s touch.  

Rodney’s teeth scraped across John’s nipple, causing him to let out a hiss.  

“And in those caves,” Rodney said.  “I had to concentrate on that damn signal to stop myself from - - But, no,” he shook his head.  “They don’t count.  This, this is the first time.”

John thought on that, thought on each of the four times he’d saw Rodney naked before - when he was hurting or distracted or not really there at all and - - grinning, he flipped Rodney until he was belly down on the bed, John straddling that perfect ass that had started this whole thing all those years ago.

Rodney was right.  The previous times didn’t count.  This was the real first time - the first time of many, he hoped -  and John wanted to make the most of every moment of it.

It really was a perfect ass.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to librarychick94 for a super speedy beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> When I first had the idea for this fic I put a call out post on my tumblr for any scenarios where John would see Rodney naked and, when I looked at my phone half an hour later, ceruleanbeekeper and irrationalgame had given me enough ideas between them for a 50 times fic! Thank you both for the inspiration.


End file.
